


Dating in the Dark

by secret_murmurs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Sirius Black, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Romance, Sound Effects, Sweet Sirius Black, Werewolf Politics, Werewolf Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secret_murmurs/pseuds/secret_murmurs
Summary: Remus fancied him! Possibly? And also hated him, it seemed. It was all very confusing.Before he could ask further, the sound of Filch echoed from down the hall."Hide!"Remus never shows up to his date. Sirius is heartbroken.
Relationships: Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, Marauders & Lily Evans Potter, Marauders & Marauders, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	1. Serious Sirius

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fic, so any feedback is welcome! I hope to make this part of a longer fic, maybe a choose-your-own-adventure format.
> 
> Yes, I will update this soon!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is upset. Remus is missing.

**Friday, September 14th, 1973—Waning Gibbous**

James Potter first noticed something amiss at breakfast. One of his best mates—despite recently turning into a bloodthirsty monster and suffering more complications than the usual shattered bones and heavy bleeding—seemed more cheerful than usual.

Then, his best mate and brother-in-arms disappeared after class with a flimsy excuse. (Except for detentions, they rarely appeared anywhere apart.) As the sun set, James decided to leave the rest of Hogsmeade for the next day, to the disappointment of Peter. 

He arrived to their dorm room to an unprecedented sight: a crying Sirius Black. Tears streamed from the boy’s red eyes. 

“Sirius? Sirius! What in Merlin’s name happened?”

James rushed over and sat himself beside Sirius, who laid face-down on his bed, sobbing pitifully.

“James…” Another strained sob escaped, muffled by his pillow.

“What’s wrong? Is it your family? Do I need to hex someone?”

“I got stood up!”

Well, that was new.

“What bird was stupid enough to do that?”

Even being throughly heterosexual—or, arguably, Lily-sexual—James knew his best mate was attractive. With sculpted features, coiffed jet-black hair, and tall, athletic figure trimmed by Quidditch, he attracted girls everywhere effortlessly. If he bothered to flash his easy grin and twinkling grey eyes, few could resist. If Lily and Sirius had shown anything but contempt for one another, James would even have felt jealous.

“I can’t tell you."

“You _what_?” The concept of secrecy never existed between them, as they had an uncanny sense of one another's feelings.

“I don’t want to keep secrets, but I can’t say.”

James tried and failed to think of a justification for his mate's secrecy.

“But...you’re _crying_!"

“Am not!”

Sirius pawed at his red face, smearing tears as they fell. James furrowed his eyebrows. Crying was not a very Sirius-like thing to do, except for late-night confessions about his family. What would he want to hear in the same situation?

“It’s okay, you know."

The raven-haired boy shook his head. James opened his mouth to finish explaining he meant crying was okay, but Sirius interrupted:

“No, it's not! I want to die.”

* * *

Eventually, James calmed Sirius and began investigating. When Peter returned without Remus, James interrupted the mission to search for their missing man. In any other circumstance, Sirius objected to James' "leave no man behind" philosophy—since _he_ never happened to be left behind—but this time he seemed to share the concern.

They swung by the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey seemed to have expected them.

“He had to leave with his family, dear. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

James relaxed. Remus would be fine; now they could return to Sirius' girl problem.

“You sure? He didn’t just tell you to say that, did he?" Sirius glanced around the Hospital Wing despite the fact most of the curtains were drawn. "You know M-Remmie, always trying to spare our feelings…”

Madam Pomfrey looked at him for the first time with something akin to pity, disconcerting everyone who witnessed her. 

“He’ll be all right though?” asked James, looking her in the eye.

“Yes, quite." Her tone was neutral.

“Is there a way to contact him in St. Mungo’s?”

“He’s not at Mungo’s, as far as I know.”

Something about her answer made Sirius uneasy. He couldn't pin down why. Her cool, neutral tone? The tightness of her lips? The short, clipped answers?

Whatever it was, the answer felt dodgy.

_But isn't it good news that Remus didn't need to visit the hospital? Or could that mean something worse?_

“How bad is it?” Sirius whispered.

“He isn’t ill. Family business.”

His stomach sank, and the room seemed uneven. 

“You alright there?” asked James, throwing a steadying arm around him.

“Y-yeah. Fine. Remmie's fine, right?”

“Yes. Would you like something for your nerves? Sleeping draft?”

“Please,”

Yet sleep evaded Sirius that night. After a late-night jaunt to the Astronomy Tower to admire his own namesake in the sky and the near-full moon, he settled into Remus' bed. The other boy's scent clung to the bedding, worn so they felt both soft and rough beneath his soft cheek, lulling him into a fitful sleep.

He dreamt of a wolf's distant howl.


	2. The Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream and a questionable proposal (start of a flashback to how they got together)
> 
> Sorry in advance for switching the character followed in the chapter. I'm trying to figure out how to mark that.

**WAXING CRESCENT**

_The musky scent of incoming rain mingled with the rich night-forest smells. The air prickled with electric anticipation. Leaves swirled from overhead, brilliant-colored against the dark clouds roiling._

_Two amber eyes glinted from the shadows._

_Padfoot leapt and rolled and tumbled before pouncing onto his packmate. They tussled on the forest floor, chests pressed together._

_“Mmmf!”_

_Padfoot’s ears shot up at the cry. Had he hurt his playmate?_

_“Feels good—”_

_“_ Mm _,” he groaned and continued rolling against the other boy._

_“—don't stop.”_

_Something in his stomach tensed and fluttered. They should run now. The storm-clouds heaved with fullness, ready to burst._

“Move, Moony!”

Sirius awoke with a start.

Bed sheets clung to his skin, sweat drenched. A sensation of both pleasant coolness and warmth diffused through his abdomen.

“Fuck,”

He couldn’t say when or how the dreams began _—_ or had they always been there? Sometime in Second Year, they intensified and began featuring his animagus form. _Probably warning me against transforming in my sleep_ , he reasoned. 

“Nightmare, Pads?”

Early on, the scrawny boy irritated Sirius, though he never knew why. Yet despite their differences, the two bonded over nightmares. 

He never mentioned these particular dreams. Since Remus forbade them from becoming illegal animagi, the other boys worked on it in secret. So frequently dreaming of it would raise suspicion, he told himself.

“...uh, you okay there?”

“Yes,”

His voice came out murky and tense. 

“Sure?”

“ _Mm,_ ”

* * *

**Friday September 7th, 1973 _—_ WAXING GIBBOUS**

At dinner, a snowy owl appeared over Sirius. From her talons fluttered a heart-shaped piece of paper, which lodged in Sirius' black hair. 

“If I get even one more of these stupid things, I’ll start a bonfire!”

Sirius grumbled and tossed it aside without a glance. With their first Hogsmeade visit weekend coming, the Third Years had entered a frenzy, trying to find dates. An absurd number wanted Sirius Black. 

“You’re not even going to see who it’s from?” said Peter between mouthfuls. 

Sirius groaned. 

“Ugh, they can't even bother asking in-person."

“Thought you preferred notes?” said Remus. “If not, my apologies. That's what I'd answered the girls who asked.” 

Sirius harrumphed and stabbed at a potato. His fork screeched against the plate. 

"Poor Padfoot, having to pick from a hundred birds," said James.

“I wish I had just one," added Peter. 

“Here,” said Sirius, snatching the pink heart without even glancing over, “take this one.” He returned to attacking his food.

Frank Longbottom scowled.

“Er…it’s from a Slytherin?” said Remus. 

“Oh, this is perfect.” Sirius laughed and snatched it back. 

The card actually came from Alice Prewett, who eyed them hopefully from the opposite end of the table. From her expression, Remus guessed she heard nothing of their conversation.

Remus understood why his friend would pick someone like her. She stood out even among his admirers with her almost-white blond hair and clear, snow-white skin. Her delicate features showed the same elegant, aristocratic beauty as his. Together, they resembled a coordinating set of china dolls, white and black. Remus glanced down at his hands, covered in scars and the remnants of a splotchy freckle-tan. From his tawny hair to his shifting eye-color, no part of him remained unmarred.

"Who is it? Someone pretty?" said Peter. 

“No Slytherins,” James stated firmly. "No matter how pretty."

“'Course," replied Sirius, "how else will we turn this into a prank?" He took on his old posh accent as he spat, "going out with her worthless blood traitor Gryffyndor! What will the family say!" 

He flipped the bird to the Slytherin table, prompting several glares from the boys. Relief flooded Remus, which he justified to himself as fear for his secret. Slytherins showed dark creatures the greatest contempt. 

“Too bad they're so dreadful ** _—_** and mostly your relatives," said Remus, trying to sound nonchalant. "Some are rather pretty." 

Remus faced the other three boy’s stares.

“You fancy a Slytherin, Remus?”

“Ew, no! Just saying," 

James clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Look at our little Moony, growing up. Here I thought you didn’t notice girls, much less fancy any." 

“I don’t! I’m only remarking. And even if I fancied anyone, it would be foolish to get close to anyone _—_ least of all a Slytherin _—_ with what I am."

“You can’t let your Furry Little Problem keep you from finding true love! Gryffyndor love, that is." James shot a look to Peter, who shrunk in his chair.

“I was just saying,” said Peter. 

Sirius pushed himself up from the table without another word, grabbing a piece of bread. Remus _—_ after glancing about to insure no one saw him _—_ took the chance to swipe the card, tucking it into his sleeve before tagging after his friend.

“Who do you fancy anyway Sirius, if not one of the birds who asked you?” asked Pete as they walked back to Gryffyndor Tower.

“None of your business,” 

“Oh, c’mon, ask her! You can’t very well go telling Remus to not avoid birds while doing the same with the one you fancy," said James.

“I don’t fancy anyone,” mumbled Sirius. “And you’re one to talk, scared of Evans!" 

Remus sighed and tried to walk ahead. Distracted by his thoughts of how to survive his Third Year with everyone fixated on romance, he stumbled into Sirius.

“I know!” said Peter. “Why don’t you make a bet? If James asks Evans, then you ask your bird. If you do, I’ll ask anyone you pick. And Remus, um..." 

“Remus can be the secret-keeper, you know, make sure we did ask without needing everyone there. Don’t need you lot scaring off my date.” 

“So there is someone!” said James with an air of victory. 

“Well, I suppose I’ll be the only one to know,” said Remus with an empty smile as a wave of nausea passes over him. He must have looked so pathetic that Sirius pitied him, as the other boy crushed him into a hug just like his usual post-nightmare comfort hugs. Then he threw a friendly arm around Remus, who leaned in contently until his cheek ghosted the other boy’s.

They could hear each other's racing heartbeats as they made their way back to the Common Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect the rest of the flashback soon!
> 
> COMING UP NEXT  
> “You really don’t fancy girls a bit?"  
> “No...no Rem, I don’t. I tried. D’you think...I’m unnatural?
> 
> Image from Pexels, a site for free stock photography: https://www.pexels.com/photo/dark-clouds-in-the-sky-3888585/


	3. The Flashback, continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius talks to Remus about his feelings. It doesn't go particularly well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The image links to an ambient sound background. If you want to hear what I pictured it to sound like. I'm trying to do more of pictures and sounds instead of boring you all with descriptions. Please let me know what you think of it.

**Sunday, September 9th, 1973—WAXING GIBBOUS**  
An autumn chill set upon the castle over the weekend. Everyone in Gryffindor Tower seemed eager to return to their cozy beds. By nine o’clock, only Remus and Sirius remained in the [Gryffindor Common Room](https://harry-potter-sounds.ambient-mixer.com/fall-midnight-in-common-room#.Xu0CRoUGyZc.link). They sat pressed together in a single armchair.

[ ](https://harry-potter-sounds.ambient-mixer.com/fall-midnight-in-common-room#.Xu0CRoUGyZc.link)

For a days now, Sirius had anticipated talking to Remus alone. But the Marauders had spent every waking minute catching up after their long summer apart. Now he wanted to enjoy the warmth a few minutes longer. Sirius maintained the pretense of homework while he watched the other boy. Remus nibbled on the pad of his thumb as he read from a small book entitled— 

“ _The Language of Flowers_ , eh Moony? Sounds posh,” said Sirius. When Remus didn’t reply, he continued, "why'd you want to read about a poncy subject like that?"

"Same reason most blokes do,” said Remus without looking up from his book. 

Sirius wriggled into the other boy’ lap, trying to subtly read the page. The paper emanated old book scent—reminiscent of vanilla cookies and fresh-cut grass—that reminded him of Remus, along with soft floral notes and something vaguely...Muggl-y? More so than the books Remus normally brought from home. 

“Could you stop it?” 

“What?”

“Snuffling. Like a dog,” 

Sirius chuckled as he made a confused expression. If only he could explain the humor without letting on about their animagi project! When Remus moved his hand to push hair from his forehead, Sirius slithered into the space between Remus and the book. 

The yellowed page read: _Courtship Floral Arrangements_.

“You _sure_ you don’t fancy anyone?”

“No,”

“No, as in you _do_ fancy someone, or—” 

“Could you be quiet?” Remus snapped.

“Sorry,"

With a beleaguered sigh, Remus closed the book around a white feather as a makeshift bookmark. He gripped the book so his knuckles turned white. 

“I’m sorry for being short with you. I’ve just felt like rubbish all day.” 

“Moon?” 

Remus nodded. 

“Bit stressed as well,” 

Sirius kicked himself for being so inconsiderate. His stupid crush could wait. 

“Have we been annoying by insisting you spend all weekend with us?”

“No,” he said with a hint of reluctance. “I enjoyed it and all, really, it’s just…coming back’s always a bit intense. Better now that you know about my condition though,”

Sirius beamed. They had made progress. Last year, they worried for their shy, mysterious friend, while Remus kept them at arm's length. Now all the boys had grown much closer—close enough for those dreams...

The thought made warmth surge through his face and neck. Without thinking, Sirius reached out to rub Remus’ shoulders and back. He continued until Remus was sat between his open legs. Remus’ eyes fluttered closed, and some tension left his shoulders. 

“Thanks, Siri…that helps loads, actually.”

Sirius continued pressing his thumbs in circles near the back of Remus’ neck. 

“Anything to help,”

“I’m fine…well actually, there is something. You’re a pureblood aristocrat and all,” 

“Of only the finest inbreeding,” he drawled. 

“So you’ve probably heard of the Language of Flowers, yea?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” 

If it had been anyone else, he would’ve remarked about how no one who liked such things was worth the trouble—especially for a werewolf—but he couldn’t stand to hurt Remus. 

“D’you think you can tell me if this book is accurate? It’s a Muggle one, so I’d worried it might be different.”

“Who’re they for?” he blurted.

“Not a _who_ per se…” 

_What’s that supposed to mean? Just tell me who, for Merlin’s sake!_

Sirius tried to sound nonchalant as he teased.

“What, just a general purpose bouquet to reel in the right bird?”

“No!”

“Sorry, I’m being a tit.”

“‘Suppose I should’ve expected,” said Remus, running a hand through Sirius’ hair. “And it’s just a project, of sorts.”

“A Prank?”

“Potentially…you did want to get the sender of the card? I just need to know what flowers a wealthy pureblood sort would take as a declaration of love.” 

“Definitely, and this sounds ace. Tell you what, I’ll figure out the whole arrangement tonight and we’ll talk tomorrow. As a debonair ladies man, it’s only appropriate.” 

Remus laughed, a warm light sound.

“‘S’ppose—” His words cut off with a massive yawn, stretching from head to toe. He shook out his now-loosened muscles. 

“So sleep now? You look awful, like you’ve been trampled by hippogriffs or something.” 

“Trying to charm me, are you?” he muttered, sarcastic but still smiling. “‘M knackered honestly, chasing you lot,” 

Sirius pried the book from his hands and tugged him off the sofa. Arms entwined, Sirius guided him up the boy’s dormitory steps. 

Watching his friend's tranquil face as he slept, Sirius had second thoughts of ever mentioning a date. 

“What am I going to do about you, Moony?” he whispered, so softly he could barely hear himself. 

Before drifting to sleep, he already knew what he would dream. 

* * *

**Monday, September 10, 1973—WAXING GIBBOUS**  
After class, James and Peter set out on Lily-patrol. Sirius and Remus set about working on the mystery idea.

They snuck into the greenhouses. What they couldn't find there, Sirius transfigured from some origami cranes that Remus folded. Their hands touched as Remus tried to teach him how to fold them. 

Finally, they hid behind a sofa in the Common Room and waited, grinning at one another. Sirius consoled himself. No girl would ever be close to Remus like this. They grew close on shared work and secrets, rather than the game of bribery that girls demanded. 

They watched James receive the first of many unceremonious rejections by Lily. But he managed to impress one of her friends with the lush bouquet. Peter asked Mary the same way. 

When they reconvened for dinner, everyone seemed to be in good enough spirits, except him. 

“Thanks Remus!” squealed Pete. 

“You’re a real mate, Moony,” said James, ruffling Remus’ hair. Remus gave a soft smile. 

“You did all that,” said Sirius disbelievingly, “just to help Pete get a date and James get pity?”

“Well I figured since I’m friends with the girls, I’d best help out my mates.” 

“Look at you, Moony, our own little Cupid. But who does Cupid have his eye on?”

“How many times must I tell you! No one." 

"You're one to talk Padfoot. You've yet to make good on your part of the bet." 

"I'm investigating," he replied. Technically, that was true. 

Remus stood and grabbed his rucksack. 

“I’ve got to go to study group now.” 

He walked off.

“Bit early for his time of the month,”

Sirius couldn’t help but defend Remus. 

“He was in pain last night too, and probably this weekend.”

The other two looked sobered. 

“Poor bloke, I didn’t notice anything.”

“Me neither,” said Pete, _as if he ever notices anything_. _They’re both so oblivious._

“Wow, and he still took so much time to help us.” 

“Yeah, you tossers should be grateful,” scolded Sirius. 

“Well, the main one was his.” 

“I wonder what bird got it?” 

“D’you reckon we teased him too much about this? And that’s why he won’t tell us?”

James shrugged. 

Just then, a loud squealing came from the Common Room. The three of them rushed in to investigate. A large group gathered around several girls. When the crowd parted for James and Sirius. 

The last bouquet, the nicest one, descended in, lifted by a flock of paper cranes enchanted to fly. That creativity belonged to Remus alone; Sirius only helped with the flowers and spellwork. 

“It’s from Frank!” 

“Wow, that’s amazing. He really does adore you Alice, see?” 

“How do you know it’s from Longbottom?” said Sirius. Looking to cast aside suspicion, he added, “doesn’t seem like his style.” 

“His handwriting, I’d know it anywhere,” said Lily. “It’s neat, like Remus’.” 

Sirius debated with himself what a good mate would do. What if Frank accepted credit for Remus’ work and broke his heart? 

But then again, what the hell did anyone see in dull, dishwater blonde Alice? She was the human equivalent of having plain sugar for desert. And in that way, her and Frank suited one another. Just like he and Remus suited one another as Marauders—living for thrilling mischief and adventures—and both overcoming their dark past. 

“What does the card say?” some girl asked.

“It says that he humbly requests that I consider a date with him in Hogsmeade. And if I accept, I should send a reply in flowers from these, and he’ll meet me.” 

“Frank’s always been shy, that makes sense.”

“Shy boys are adorable, aren’t they?” Lily cast a pointed look at James. 

“Hey, I can be shy,” James replied with a pout. Lily scoffed. 

Sirius sighed. How had no one considered someone else could have sent the flowers? Someone much shyer, but not the least bit boring. 

“I don’t know the language of flowers though!” Alice panicked. _Of course, not even a cultured boring snob,_ Sirius sneered in his mind with a tone like his mother'. 

“I have a book on it!” said Lily. “But I lent it to Remus. Do any of you know where Remus is?” She motioned in their direction. James and Peter both looked to Sirius. 

“To reply, all you really need to do is take out the Ambroisa to send him,” Sirius muttered through gritted teeth. 

“The what?”

“The fucking pink ones—oh for Merlin’s sake, they’re these ones. Do other people not have to learn this stuff?”

He didn’t turn back to see the astonished expressions of the other Gryffindors.

Sirius searched most of the usual spots and ducked to walk through yet another tunnel. By the time he re-emerged outside the castle, the sky had darkened noticeably. The shadows stretched as the sun dipped behind the black treeline.

_I should’ve looked outside first! Bollocks!_

He sprinted into the Forbidden Forest, wind slapping his face. The dizzy, exhilarating twist of his stomach grew entering the darker forest floor. Adrenaline shot through him as he navigated twisting, shadowy paths. Following a familiar trail marked with cairns—piles of stones left as landmarks—to the Shrieking Shack. 

He forced the door open. The old wood creaked in protest, and his footsteps on the rickety staircase spat dust into the air. 

On the floor inside, Remus laid face-up, eyes shut. 

“Moony?!”

Remus did not open his eyes, but answered in a weak voice.

“Siri, what are you doing here?” 

Something was wrong. 

“Are you alright?”

“‘M fine,” 

Remus' eyes blinked open. Sirius inhaled from the stale, acrid air in the Shack. He made his way over to Remus and knelt beside him, checking for signs of injury. 

“What are you doing here?" Sirius panted, "I searched the whole bloody castle!” 

“Why?" Remus muttered. "We spent all afternoon together.”

“You ran off.” Sirius paused before continuing more quietly, “why?...was it me?”

“Was busy,”

The other boy’s gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, while his fingers tugged on his sleeves. 

“You really think I’ll let you lie like that?” Sirius said firmly. In a gentler tone, he continued, “c’mon now, what aren’t you saying?” 

Remus sighed. Startlingly-amber eyes gazed into Sirius for a moment. 

“I’m sorry. For running off today. And being in a mood all weekend.” 

“Not just the moon, is it?” Sirius brushed away some soft blond hair from his face, savoring the feeling of it in his fingers. “You can tell me, you know? Don’t pretend. I’m _asking_ you to complain here. As a favor to me?” 

The other boy smiled weakly. A good sign. 

“Charming bastard,” 

“Always.” Sirius flashed a smug smile before sobering once again. “Now, tell me what to apologize for this time.” 

“Nothing…” said Remus, earning a quirked eyebrow in response. “I just wish you’d understand why I’ve got to be such a wet blanket. I don’t want to! I'd like to play Quidditch and get drunk and ignore consequences...be as fun as you three.

“You’re jealous?”

“I…fine, happy?”

“No, of course not. But that's always been the case. What's troubling you this month?" 

Remus sighed. 

"If I could, I’d have been the first to ask someone—doomed or not." He chuckled darkly. "Suppose I’m a bit of a romantic like that, if you can believe it."

“I can. You seem the sort, what, with your books and chocolate. A regular bird. You’ve even got a—”

“Don’t—”

“—monthly cycle—”

“Git.” Remus smiled through his scowl, evidently still amused by the Marauder’s first and favorite lycanthropy joke. But Sirius turned to face him, his grin fading. 

“Why do you think you can’t pull? I could help—”

“I’m a werewolf.” 

“C’mon, we all accept your Furry Little Problem! Why not some bird?”

“I’ve just got too many secrets for anything to ever work—especially in the wizarding world.”

“You’ve got to try though!”

“Every try’d start with a lie. Risking everything. And even if they supported me, it wouldn’t be fair. They’d be at risk, condemned by society, stuck with me ill…” 

A small, terrible part of Sirius—probably the part inherited from his family—felt pleased by this. He bit his lip. If Remus just knew that he admired him all the more for how he handled his “Furry Little Problem” with true Gryffindor courage. No one else privy to Remus’ secret had romantic feelings toward him, so Sirius had a distinct advantage as long as Remus felt this way. Even if Remus didn’t consider himself the least bit gay, maybe he would consider Sirius worthy for accepting him fully from the start, knowing the full consequences _...and I’m better than nothing, right?_

“Suppose someone was fine with that?”

“The sad thing is, it still wouldn’t work. Thought this summer, I might meet someone. Maybe find another of my kind…” Remus’ words stung him, even though he spoke of his ‘kind’ with a tone of obvious derision. “And I did tell someone that I fancied them.”

“Did she know it was you?” 

“Yea. This was over the summer. Muggle.”

“I’m sorry," 

Remus laughed darkly. Sirius opened his mouth to comfort him, but the words seemed stuck…it wasn’t as if he had any first-hand experience with the sentiment of romantic rejection per se—yet. He opted to rub comforting circles on Remus’ shoulder and sent a hand through his soft hair.

“Doesn’t even matter. I realized I fancy someone else. And always did.”

Remus finally let go of a tension, visibly relaxing. He stood, pulling Sirius along with him, to guide him through the dark woods back to the castle.

“Oh…Prewett?” Sirius gulped, pretending to admire the stars appearing in the dusky haze. 

“What?! Not in the least, thank Merlin," 

“Rem, I saw the last bouquet we made…she loved it, you know. And she likes shy guys, she made a mistake—"

“She did believe Frank sent them, right?" He sounded worried. _Does that mean he wanted Frank to get credit?_ "Thought I faked his handwriting well enough.” 

" _That_ was the Prank then?” Sirius said with a grin. 

“Sort of, yes, though meant it to be a kind one. He’s been mad for her since ages.”

“A _kind_ Prank?” The notion made Sirius snigger at it's absurdity. It was just so _Remus_. Brilliant prankster, loyal friend, and kind to a fault. "You really are the most selfless person I've ever met." 

“Saved the trouble of you getting detention over Frank’s vengeance.” 

“For?”

“Insulting the girl he’s been pining after for two years? At least two,”

“ _Longbottom_ said he’d beat me up?” He was the human equivalent of a muggy summer afternoon, incapable of arousing any feeling but boredom.

“Probably would just punish you, being Prefect—but he was ready to defend Alice’s honor.”

“Wait, the card! So you saved me from my being a berk?”

“More or less,"

“I owe you for saving me from Longbottom’s wrath.” 

“Just try to be a bit more sensitive in your rejections?" Despite his soft-spokenness, a bitter edge tinged his words.

“I don't mean to be such a tosser....I just don’t understand why they find any of this stuff romantic. All I want is someone who likes fun, like Pranks and my best mates and all the punk things I’ll do when I’m bigger.” A rough hand patted Sirius’ own, and his heart faltered as the hand held his in a firm clasp.

"You of all people do know gifts can't replace love," said Remus. Sirius nodded. "But I think it's more about someone knowing what you like. We just don't have the same preferences."

“You're really good at knowing what birds like, playing cupid and all." 

“I also enjoy vicariously living through it. If I can’t be happy, at least you all can." 

“You're really the most selfless person I know. You’ve just got to believe in how good you are.” _Let me prove it to you? Please?_

“You’ve yet to make good on your end of the bet.” 

“That’s what I came to talk to you about actually.”

_Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. You've got that, right?  
_

“Want help?” 

“No…um, I don’t plan to ask anyone?” 

“Er, giving up on the bet? C’mon, you’re you! Anyone would be silly not to fancy you.” _Including you?_

“You can tell them that I asked someone I’d like to go with.”

“Have you?”

“Not yet,”

“I don’t really want to lie. Is there a reason?” 

“I’d like to go with you more than anyone else in the world? That counts, right?” 

“Sirius,”

“Why do you sound so cross?” 

“I…don’t take this the wrong way Sirius, but I really don’t appreciate you doing this.” 

“Doing what?”

“Cheating on the spirit of the bet on a technicality of semantics. _You_ of all people, who could pull any girl in this school who’s available, except Lily Evans.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. As if he'd ever want her. 

“If I’ve asked you to be my date, then I did exactly what I said!" Sirius protested. 

“They used courage to ask! You’re getting off on a technicality. You’re meant to ask someone you’d feel terrible being rejected by! Not just a _mate_. Someone you fancy! You know what most people would give to be in your position, able to pull any girl they pleased?” 

“Most people would like to be attractive to people of a gender they can’t be attracted to?”

“Yes—wait, what?” 

Remus looked at him, wide-eyed, as if trying to read a foreign language. 

“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered to himself. Bollocks. Fuck. Shite. He hadn’t meant to come out like that. 

“You’re…?”

The sentence hung in the air between them, unfinished. 

“Now you know why I can’t just be straightforward.”

“You don’t honestly expect me to believe that, do you?”

Just his luck, of course, that Remus didn't believe him.

“And if it’s true?” he whispered roughly as they entered the castle.

“You’re still…so you’ve asked me? What, because I thought I might be queer once? To win the bet?”

“Remus, please, just go with me. You’ll have fun, promise! I won’t tell anyone it’s a date. You can just tell James and Pete that I asked, which I did! What’s the bloody problem? This solves everything! Isn’t it what you wanted? Someone to ask you so you could have what the rest of us do? More, really,”

“I don’t need your _pity_!" Remus hissed. Except it’s not just pity, is it? Using my feelings to win a bet?”

“I’m not—”

“How’d you even find out? Did he tell you? I should’ve known. Of course it’s always be James and Sirius first, everyone else second!”

“Did you not hear what I just said! I asked you to join me.”

“And I won’t be your toy!” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Even if I did always fancy you, I’ve got dignity enough.”

Sirius stood in place, eyes transfixed on the spot Remus had stood in moments earlier. 

Remus fancied him! Possibly? And also hated him, it seemed. It was all very confusing. 

Before he could ask further, the sound of Filch echoed from down the hall. 

"Hide!" 

* * *

Remus pushed him into another one of the small tunnels that littered the castle walls. _Thank Merlin for werewolf senses_. The tunnel's size better suited a house-elf than a human, even two young boys. They waited for the groundskeeper's grumblings to fade, sat in total darkness pressed against one another.

When Filch's footsteps finally quieted, he figured they could at least whisper to pass the time.

"Psst, Moony,"

"What?"

Was he annoyed? He sounded annoyed, except not quite. Just tired. Which could easily be from the moon...

"I, er, figure we ought to talk. To pass time. I'm bored."

Sirius wished he could see the other boy's face. Without feedback, he had to grope about for the right thing to say.

"Of course you are,"

Really though, was that annoyance? Anger even? Teasing?

But pulling out his wand would mean pressing his front against Remus', which was quickly becoming unfeasible. And light would only make Remus more conscious of their position. If anything, the darkness put Sirius at ease—which he hoped had nothing to do with his family heritage, just self-consciousness in front of his gorgeous friend.

"I'm not bored of you. Just the quiet," whispered Sirius.

"I like quiet."

"You don't want to talk to me?" he said, cursing himself for sounding so... _needy_. Like all those girls who chased him. 

"There's not much to say."

"I...you know I meant it. What I said. Really,"

"Can we talk about this when Filch isn't after us?"

That meant Remus was open to discussing it, right?

"He's gone now."

"He could return."

An idea struck him. A bold, simple idea to show Remus he meant his words. After all, they were trapped here for the time being, and they needed to stay silent.

Sirius leaned forward and kissed his chapped lips—warm and surprisingly soft—tasted of tea and chocolate, along with something more savory. He enjoyed a brief, soft, teasing kiss, perfectly chaste, waiting for Remus' response. And he thought it had begun.

"Oy, there you two tossers are! We searched everywhere."

Fucking James Potter.

The spell broke as light flooded the tunnel. In the hall, Peter held onto the silvery cloak while James stood with his hands folded. 

"Next time you go marauding about the castle without us, at least take the cloak?" James huffed like an annoyed mum, "and it's a school night, for Godric's sake! Not to mention tomorrow is the—well, I'm sure you know..."

"We stayed out too late and got caught by Filch." Remus explained calmly—as if his lips weren't still a little pink from their first real kiss.

"Yes, that's another thing, Sirius was supposed to go get you, not stay out—"

"Piss off Prongs," Sirius said, surprising himself.

Peter pulled them all under the cloak, and they walked back to their dorm, Sirius avoiding the other boy's gaze the whole way.

_What have I done?_

* * *

**Thursday, September 13, 1973—WANING GIBBOUS**

Sirius awoke, sweat-drenched and on edge once again. Rain beat against the castle walls while tree branches lashed. 

His stomach twisted as his thoughts returned to what they had been all day. Remus. 

Remus had avoided him all day, even leaving early for his transformation.

 _Remus probably hates me. How would you react if one of your other best mates tried to bloody snog you?_ Sirius shuddered. The prospect of snogging James or Peter repulsed him. _See, you wanker? That’s how Remus feels._

Nonetheless, he looked over to the other bed. The curtains remained open and the bed made. 

_But yesterday, he said ‘even if’ he did ‘always fancy’ me._ Perhaps he’d misheard. _What if it meant even if he ever did fancy me? As in, he doesn’t?_

A distant sound interrupted his ruminations. Over the drumming of rain falling in sheets onto the roof, a soft murmur came from near the window. On the roof, the silhouette of a small figure appeared behind curtains of rain. As the rain fell in sheets, it sat hunched in on itself, knees against chest. 

_Remus!_

Sirius forced open the window and climbed onto the roof. Remus lifted his face to look at Sirius.

“Why’re you here?” 

“Stop bloody avoiding me!” 

“Stop teasing then,” said Remus icily, pulling his knees closer. 

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Honestly Siri, I never thought you’d make fun of me like this. Disgust I understand. I’d move if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Don’t you dare, Remus Lupin.”

“So you…can make fun of me more…for being bent…and stupid enough to join your fan club?” Remus choked out between silent sobs. 

“You’re listening to Lily Evans again.” Sirius sighed at the admonishing expression Remus wore. Why did Lily always go out of her way to tell everyone what an awful, shallow slag he supposedly was? Just because her friends fancied him…“Listen, I’m dead serious.”

“You will be.” He scowled, but his voice squeaked as if pained. 

“What must I do for you to believe me?”

“Not taking the piss?”

“I’m not! I swear. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do!” said Remus. “But why would someone like you ever want me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” said Sirius in a much softer tone. The way Remus had asked made his stomach twist with the horrific injustice of it all. 

Remus’ eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Sirius. 

“I’m a werewolf?”

“For fuck’s sake Moony, beside your Furry Little Problem!”

“There is no beside my—!” 

“Don’t you trust us when we say it’s not a problem?” _Don’t you trust_ me _?_

Sirius’ expression softened again at Remus with his same resigned expression. No one their age should feel so world weary.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. That’s why I was surprised yesterday.”

“Then what?”

“It’s that you’re, well, look at you,” said Remus, motioning toward Sirius in a way that made him self-conscious. “Rich, popular, pureblooded, athletic, handsome…Merlin, how are you even real?” 

He grinned and wrapped himself around Remus, feeling the other boy’s warmth radiating through their wet clothes. 

“I could ask you the same.” 

Remus laughed darkly. 

“Yes, poor, loony, half-blood, werewolf, scrawny, scarred me…” 

“No! You’re not any of that. Well you are a werewolf. But it’s not your fault or anything. And it only hurts you. Shows how strong you really are. That’s what the scars are. And you’re not scrawny! You could beat any of us into tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Remus murmured sarcastically, “for the reminder.” 

“Oh c’mon, you know what I’d meant! You’re stronger and fitter than the rest of us combined, the situation just doesn’t let you show it. Plus you hate hurting people because you’re adorable.” Blush pooled in Remus’ cheeks and he averted his eyes shyly. He squeezed the blond more firmly in his arms. “It only shows how patient you are. Which is helpful in dealing with me.” 

Remus smiled.

“You’re popular.” 

“And you would be, if you didn’t have to hide,” Sirius reminded him gently. “And yet you still are probably the most popular after James and I. Plenty of birds wanted you to ask them.” 

“ _Every_ girl in this school would want you though.” 

“I’m gay, remember?” Sirius chuckled sadly at the cruelty of fate. “And as for being a rich pureblood aristocrat, I’m counting on weaseling away every knut 'til mother dearest blasts me off the tapestry. A Gryffindor heir is one thing, but a dead-end heir is truly worthless.” 

“Even so…I’m covered in scars.” 

“Me too." Sirius whispered. Remus looked as if he was mulling over something. Sirius quipped, “and my parents have yet to find out I’m a fucking shirtlifter, so there should be plenty more.” 

“You really don’t fancy girls a bit?”

“No...no Rem, I don’t. I tried. D’you think...I’m unnatural?” 

“No! Not more than me anyway,” said Remus. Sirius looked like he wanted to protest the unnatural bit, so he clarified, “because I fancy you. Quite a lot.”

A smile rose across his face, crinkling the corners of his gorgeous green-gold eyes to match Sirius’ own. He tackled Remus into a bear hug that ended with them nearly sliding off the roof. 

“Come on, you wanker, let’s not die before you take me on that date.” 


	4. Mystery Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus goes on a mystery trip.
> 
> Remus' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!

They'd nearly been caught. 

For far from the first time, Remus wished they had a way of locating everyone in the castle. Or just a way of locating every broom closet suitable for snogging.

Stupid Prefects. 

"Merlin's beard, that was close," Remus whispered.

Sirius chuckled against his chest, exhaling warm, minty breath. His werewolf vision highlighted the boy in soft light from beneath the door crack. 

"This is why I want to tell the world. Though you're cute when you panic. Your ears prick up practically."

"Prat." Remus shoved and kissed him again. "You know as well as I that we can't."

"I know not now, but eventually...right?"

"Of course,"

"I'll miss you. I suppose I can listen to that record you brought until you get back." Sirius sighed. "Hurry though."

Per their plan, Sirius left first, with an excuse about dung-bombs ready. He promised he didn't care if he got detention over it. Remus twirled a piece of straw in his fingers and holds one ear against the wall, eyes closed. 

Sirius' footsteps finally faded. Remus waited for what about five minutes by his estimation—though he has no way of knowing.

Then he made his way out and begins down the hallway.

"Hey, Loony!" Someone sneered, "what are you doing out after curfew?"

Mulciber.

He was not alone. Two others flank the slick Slytherin. One, he recognizes from Sirius' many mentions of his relatives as Narcissa. 

"I-I-I w-was just reading and I'm going back to Gryffindor—"

"Are you now?"

"Mr. Lupin is indeed," said McGonagell.

He exhales.

The Slytherins glare, expressions like dogs who've had a treat snatched from their jaws.

"Thank you so much, Professor. I'd just lost track of time, with watches not working at school at such, not that it's an excuse, I know I probably deserve detention. And my friends left so it's not—"

"It's alright, Mr. Lupin. Please sit down."

"Is something the matter?"

She pulled out a newspaper.

* * *

Remus worried about appearing before his parents in his disheveled state. On any other day, he followed their advice to look the part of neat, proper little schoolboy. But they only gave him a pitying look, which on an ordinary day would trigger a deluge of self-loathing. Nothing could faze him after last night though.

Surely such a thing would be written on his face.

He tried to remember the anguish that, until recently, followed him everywhere, like someone poking at a wound to check it still existed.

As a smile crept across his face, his mother looked at him as if she worried for his sanity while holding out a box of candy.

“Want some sweets?”

He nearly shouted.

“No.” The sight turned his stomach, and he instead tore into another sandwich. His craving for sweets had been temporarily vanished—reversed, actually, as the idea disgusted him. He hunted for an excuse.

“You alright, cariad?”

“Yes, mum.” He tried to hunt for a non-damning excuse, but his lying instinct had weakened as well. That boy will be the death of me, he thought to himself dreamily.

“You usually never turn down sweets.”

“Well, er, the house elves have outdone themselves recently. Eating healthier might help my condition?”

“Always my good little boy,” she said with a brush of his hair.

He grinned, and hoped it seemed like a grin of appreciation to his mother—not the image of a delightfully wicked boy with red, kiss-swollen lips and rock music that would offend anyone over 30.

“Thanks mum. I’m just happy because I got this,” he said, pulling out his book. After all, he’d have to explain it anyway, and that would seem like enough to make him this happy by itself.

“Wow, it’s beautiful! How did you manage to buy it?”

“Oh, er, gift. Helped someone with homework and tutored him a bit. He, er, insisted.”

Technically, this was entirely true.

“You really are my good boy,”

Something about that compliment bothered him, but it didn’t cross his mind until later that day.

* * *

Remus panicked. He couldn’t tell his father about having friends who knew of his condition—much less dating one.

But any hesitation would be a dead giveaway now; his dad knew his tells. So he made the same calculation he’d made thousands of times before and tried to find a lesser truth that would seem damning enough. 

“I’ve just been happy, recently...I’ve, uh, I’ve been dating someone.”

Hope squealed from the other room and ran in.

“I’ve always known he’d get a girlfriend. See Lyall?”

Remus didn’t have to try to look mortified, which helped his case. 

“Does she know?”

“About?”

“YOUR CONDITION!”

“Oh, er, yes…” Remus murmured. Lyall scowled.

Remus held his hands up.

“I didn't tell! The moon dates just lined up and it got figured out.”

“Smart one too, and obviously she must pay attention to him. What is she like? A nice lass I hope..."

“Who is she?” Lyall asked in the exact opposite tone—though he’d calmed at his wife’s excitement. 

“Um...well it’s...I don’t exactly want to say…”

Both their faces fell. 

“Son, have you gone mad? Letting someone know, admitting to it, and then you won’t tell us who.”

“Oh Lyall,”

“ _NOW_!”

“It’s Sirius!”

“Yes, obviously it’s serious, that’s why we need to know!”

“I think he means his relationship is serious, Lyall?" She sounded like she didn’t quite believe her own words. 

“Yes, um, well…” Remus gulped. “Can’t you just believe me when I say that?”

“It’s the pressure, isn’t it? This is so much for you, I know, but...he really seems to have lost it, Hope.”

“Remus, are you feeling alright?”

“I mean...Madam Pomfrey did give me a sleeping draft and some pain potion before we left as well.”

“Oh.” His voice quieted; the silence filled with the rumbling of their train-car moving along the track. “Sorry...that I’ve accused you of being mad.” 

“Well—to be fair—you’ve suffered the same accusation because of me. And the world thinks far me far worse than just mad.” 

The man wore that familiar expression haunted with guilt. The expression, Remus noticed, looked a lot like his when feelings of self-loathing washed over him in front of a mirror. 

* * *

“Please state your name, for the record.”

“Remus John Lupin,"

“Born?”

“March 10th, 1960, of Hope—" His voice cracked “—and Lyall Lupin.”

He thought of the boy he had been, practiced in stoicism and ascetic numbness. With his low standards and pessimism, he expected nothing, and found happiness wherever possible.

“Come with me." A man motioned him alone, while his parents were forced to stay seated.

With a deep inhale, he let himself become entranced in thoughts while they walked toward whatever fate awaited him.

He’d be content with a life like his summers tending to vegetables and herbs, knitting on rainy afternoons, and silent forest walks. In his wildest dreams, someone might sit beside him in the library, who would smell of sun-dried laundry, foggy mornings, and Bergamont tea.

In hindsight, he didn’t love the other boy’s wickedness because it was pleasurable. Which it was. But it wasn’t that, he had realized.

Without rock music, he’d enjoy singing “Scarborough Faire” with his soft lilt. Without mischievous friends, he might live out his boy-ish side with Tom Sawyer and Robin Hood. Without the real thing, James Dean had suited him.

No, he was in love with being allowed to not be the good boy.

That was why the searing brand of silver did not break him. 


End file.
